


Feelings Shatter From Silence

by catrinahart



Series: Feelings Stay the Same Series [3]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Famous Harry, Golf Reporter Niall, Idiots in Love, Lack of Communication, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-22 21:33:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13175631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catrinahart/pseuds/catrinahart
Summary: Harry knew when they got back together that it wouldn’t be all sunshine and rainbows.  He spends a lot of time at the studio and on movie sets and Niall spends time travelling to golf courses all over the world.  But Niall landed almost three hours ago and he’s still not here- where he should be- with his boyfriend that he says he’s missed.





	Feelings Shatter From Silence

**Author's Note:**

> Here is the second installment of a small series of one-shots to accompany Feelings Stay the Same. Thank you to the anon who dropped a note on my tumblr about continuing these snapshots in their future and once again thank you to the amazing [1dfourinfinity](http://1dfourinfinity.tumblr.com/) for the never ending cheer leading. 
> 
> If you missed first one-shot installment you can find it [here.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12679749)
> 
> Enjoy!

It’s not like Harry doesn’t understand that his emotions are sometimes irrational.  He does- he understands on an intellectual level, he even understands that the way he’s feeling right now isn’t the way he’ll feel about this tomorrow.  But it’s not like he can actually communicate that to his heart.  He understands- he really does- it makes sense that Niall after being gone for a fucking month, has to stop by his office to meet with his publicist after getting off his flight.  He gets it- but it doesn’t mean that he’s still not hurt.  They even talked about it last week.   But he hasn’t seen his boyfriend for over a month and all he really wants is to feel like he’s been missed as much as he has missed Niall. 

He knew when they got back together that it wouldn’t be all sunshine and rainbows.  Harry spends a lot of time at the studio and on movie sets and Niall spends time travelling to golf courses all over the world.  But Niall landed almost three hours ago and he’s still not here- where he should be- with his boyfriend that he says he’s missed.

And Harry knows that Niall missed him, logically he believes him when he says that he missed Harry too, _knows_ that Niall’s not lying, but right now he just feels- well- not very missed, or loved for that matter.

Niall did everything he told him he would; he called when he got off the plane, texted when he was done with the meeting, and now he’s on his way here and Harry just wants to enjoy him being home, even if it’s just for a couple days.  He thinks it’s just two days, he’s not sure anymore- their ever changing schedules are a nightmare.

He remembers a book he read a while back, a quick read that he’d picked up on a whim. A relationship book covering all the different ways that people can feel and communicate love; touch, gifts, quality time, and that book always talked about a ‘love tank’ and how to fill it when it feels empty.  It is an interesting analogy; imagining a relationship as a car and the heart as a gas tank that needs to be filled to run.  But he can see how it’s also surprisingly accurate. It was something he could immediately visualize and understand.

Sometimes he thinks about that more than he’d like to admit, about how maybe his love tank is empty and he doesn’t feel as loved as he wants to.  But then he starts to think that maybe he’s not the only one. Maybe he’s not filling Niall’s love tank?  Maybe Niall’s feeling the exact same way and that’s why he not rushing home, because Harry doesn’t make him feel loved anymore. It’s all just a useless snare of tangled thoughts of insecurities and doubt.

Harry realizes that sometimes he gets a bit trapped in his own head.  He worries about things that no one else sees or creates problems that aren’t really problems; he just needs to worry about something.  But sometimes, life just seems too _good.  Too perfect._ Wonders how in the world he ended up winning Niall back?  Why did Niall decide that Harry; the same Harry that walked away; was the person that could help to make him happy now? And what if today is the day that Niall’s going to come home and realize that a relationship with Harry is just too much work, that Harry needs too much from him, and he’s not at all what he really wants.

When is Niall going to hold him to the promise that Harry made to leave Niall alone and never talk to him again?

So here he is half of his stomach churning nervously, half over the moon excited to see Niall walk through the door.

He snaps out of his thoughts when he hears the garage door open and Niall’s car pull in.  The engine only runs for a few seconds more before shutting off and then the door is closing and Niall’s car door opens and closes.

Harry tries to take all those stupid emotions and stuff them down deep, but the dread is still there. What if Niall walks in and isn’t excited to see him? What if Harry lets it slip that he’s not feeling as loved as he wants to? That he feels like he needs more? What if he lets it slip that he’s annoyed that Niall had to go to that fucking meeting first?  Couldn’t it have waited just one more day?

He smiles when the door opens though, because there he is, in all his exhausted beauty. He’s here.  After a month of not really _seeing_ him at all he’s _here._ Those sharp blue eyes behind the glasses meet his and he gives him a tired smile. He’s dressed for airport travel Nike shorts and that grey zip up pullover.  His dark brown locks are soft and fluffy falling into his face, they must have been gelled at sometime but now they are loose, swooping down across his forehead, softening his edges.  He looks gorgeous.

“Hey.”  Harry walks forward and wraps his arms around him as he fights back tears.  He’s not even sure where the tears come from, but he can’t say anymore or it will be obvious.  Niall doesn’t need this, he needs a supportive boyfriend that can deal with his stupid work schedule and not pressure him.

“Hi,” Niall pulls away but only to press up on to his toes and kiss his lips, it’s light and not nearly enough before he’s pulling away and dragging his luggage in letting the door slam shut behind him.  He looks Harry up and down quick, but it’s just enough to make his spine tingle and he smiles a bit.  His work to dress with care made a bit of an impact, even if it’s just a white tee shirt that Niall loves him in and his favorite pair of skinny jeans.

“So how was the flight?”  Harry asks- small talk- that’s the way to go otherwise he doesn’t know where to start.  But the conversation is stilted with each question Harry asks and Niall’s looking at him from the corner of his eye, like he knows something wrong, like Harry just isn’t quite right.  They’ve moved through the mudroom and the kitchen to sit in the living room.  The April sun is shining through the windows creating broken lights and shadows on the floor, and it helps to distract Harry from the stifled conversation. 

“How was the “oh so important” meeting?” And he doesn’t mean for it to come out as sarcastic as it does but it rolls off his tongue toxic and while asking it lightens the load off his shoulders, seeing Niall tense up vertebrae by vertebrae makes dread curl in his stomach. 

“Okay, what’s with the attitude?”  Niall sets his phone face down on the table, he’d only been messing with it for a second but now his eyes are on Harry and he doesn’t look happy.

“What attitude?”  Harry tries really hard to shake it off, he does, he doesn’t want to fight, but all his emotions are still right there, right under the surface and they are about to break through and he doesn’t know how to keep them under wraps.  No one has ever evoked this much emotion in him before and he’s sure no one but Niall ever will.  Most of the time it’s a good thing; this time though it borders more on the bad.

“Your tone right now, you’re pissed off.  What the fuck did I do?” Niall voice is sharp and when Harry glances over at him he looks annoyed, hands taking off his glasses to pinch at the bridge of his nose, before pressing them back in place.  A tell-tale sign that he’s irked at something and Niall has not even been here a full five minutes.

Sometimes with the history they have they do know each other _too_ well, and as much as Harry wants to fight it, try and hide it, he knows that Niall was going to pick up on his mood whether he hid it well or not. 

“God, nothing,” Harry runs his hands through his longish hair; figures there’s no use trying to pretend nothing’s wrong when Niall knows him better than that. “I just don’t know why you couldn’t have skipped the meeting and came home.  You’ve been gone for a month?  Couldn’t you just come home to me first?” 

“I told you about it, asked you about it first and you said it was okay.”  Niall’s voice is cutting and he’s right, Harry did say that it was okay but he didn’t expect back then to feel like this _right_ _now_.  On the phone it made sense, just a quick stop before he came home.  Harry didn’t realize it would make him feel like this, like he wasn’t important, like he was always coming in second place to Niall’s job.

“I guess...it wasn’t.”  Harry doesn’t know what else to say.  He’s antsy and can’t help himself when he stands up walking just a few steps then turning back to face Niall.  The action doesn’t help calm him like he’d hoped it would.  So he paces a bit, just back and forth once, hands combing through his hair only to brush it to the side. He can feel Niall’s eyes watching him as he paces back and forth.

“You can’t get mad at me for that.”  Niall ends up standing too but he only takes a couple steps to lean against the arm rest still facing Harry.  Exhaustion and frustration radiate from him but Harry doesn’t see a way to stop this now, he can’t back pedal and pretend that everything is okay.

“I’m not just mad at you for that.  I’m mad because you’ve been gone for a month and it doesn’t even seem like you care or that you missed me. I’m mad because you went to dinner with Thomas and I heard about it from Gemma.  I’m mad because you sent Robin a birthday card and I found out from my mum.  I’m mad because you didn’t make time to facetime me at all last week.  I’m mad because for two days all I got were missed calls and texts instead of actual conversation and I know I was working too but I missed you and it doesn’t seem like you missed me and I don’t even know what to do…”

“Well apparently you hold it all in until I get home and scream at me about it.”  Niall’s voice is cold and emotionless but that’s how he gets when he’s mad. Where Harry is all fire Niall is ice and it’s not always a great mix.

“Fuck you, how am I supposed to talk to you about this, when all we get are five minute phone calls and text back and forth?”  Harry points out anger running hot. 

“You know I’m busy, you _know that,_ you knew what you were in for when we started this.  You can’t get mad at me for travelling- it’s my fucking job Harry.”  Niall’s hands are stuffed in the pockets of his shorts.  He’s hunching his shoulders over and Harry hates that he looks like he’s protecting himself from an attack. But in a way he is attacking, every single thing that has bothered him over the last month is pouring out.

“I’m not mad at you for travelling; I’m pissed because when you’re gone, you’re _gone._ I don’t get anything from you. Like last week I called you twice, TWICE, about when I should book the travel around my audition but you didn’t call me back.”  He’d been trying to figure out when to leave and stay based on when Niall would be home, his goal is always to try and spend as much time with him as possible.  He hates sleeping alone, hates being alone when he’s _with_ Niall.

“I called back when I could. You called in the middle of play, you know I can’t answer on the course.” and Harry does know, he understands golf courses have some of the strictest rules, probably the reason Niall’s beard is completely gone, baby face in its place, if he had blond hair he’d look 18 again.

“You could have texted.  And what about Thomas’ stag “weekend” are you even going to be able to go on that?”  Harry throws it out there, knowing that Niall’s doing his best to plan it around everyone’s busy schedule but his own schedule is the worst.

“You know I will, I try for the important things.”  That hurts in a way he isn’t prepared and he feels the air freeze in his lungs.

“So, what? I’m not ‘important’ enough?  Calling me back to help me figure out when I going to be able to spend time with you isn’t ‘important’ enough?”

“Harry, you know that’s not what I mean.”  And Niall’s more frustrated now; hands twisting through his dark brown locks making them stand all which way.  And he does- but those words

“It’s just...I don’t even feel connected to you at all when your gone. Sure it starts off all well and good, and the first couple weeks are okay, but I can’t even remember talking about anything but your job with you yesterday.  And you never want to facetime me.  All I want is to talk to you. Have an actual conversation where you aren’t multitasking.  I know you’re busy.  I’m busy too, but I feel like I have to make an appointment just too fucking talk to you.”  He can’t even describe all the emotions rolling through him right now, anger, frustration, hurt, they’re all right there, under the surface rolling out of him one by one.  

The normally warm and cozy living room feels large and distant, each of them standing on either side.  Niall feels so much farther away than just the 10 feet away that he really is.

“I call you every day, we talk every day.  I don’t know your schedule, it’s not synced to mine remember? You like the aesthetic of your stupid leather binder so I don’t know when I can call you and when you’re busy. My schedule is synced to your goddamn calendar on your phone if you would ever look at it.  You _know_ when I’m not busy.”  Niall points out, his voice like acid that burns on Harry’s skin.

“I shouldn’t have to check my calendar to talk to you.  That’s not a normal relationship.”  Harry snaps back.

“Hey, guess what?  We aren’t in a normal relationship. You’re so famous that people recognize you by sight and I’m just your secondary school boyfriend.  Everyone is just waiting for the day that we call it quits because they can’t figure out why you’re with me in the first place.  Do you think I don’t deal with that all the time?  At least you know what I’m doing- it’s in your phone that you never fucking check.  You don’t have to deal with all the fucking pap shots when I’m gone. You don’t have to worry about TMZ and the Sun tagging you on twitter when it comes out you were spotted last month with Adriana Lima.”

“You can’t possibly be suggesting…”  Harry feels his anger dial up another notch and he didn’t even know that was possible.  He can feel his blood actually roaring through his veins leaving his skin hot and tight.

“No, of course not!”  It’s the first time in ages Harry can remember Niall raising his voice, “We don’t have a “normal” relationship Harry, and we don’t deal with “normal” shit.  We deal with _that!_   But I know you would never cheat on me.”  He shakes his head, and now he won’t even look at Harry, looks over his shoulder instead.

“So why even bring that up?  It’s not about that.  This is about you. This is about you not being here when I need you to be. I need to see you.  I need to get _something_ from you even if it is just a phone call or a FaceTime...something.” Now that he’s started it’s all coming out, everything from the past three months.  Every decision he wanted to make, how he couldn’t talk to Niall about it because he wasn’t _there._ It’s so hard to be in partnership when half the time you’re apart.

How is this happening? He didn’t even realize he was this angry? He so effectively bottled up everything that now he can’t stop it even if he tried. 

Niall looks hurt, angry, and absolutely blindsided all at once as he watches Harry explode, anger and _frustration_ shattering him into a million pieces before finally he looks back at Niall and waits for the echoing explosion.

But instead he gets ice.

“Okay, you know what? No.  I’m not doing this right now.  I’m just gonna….” Niall throws his hands up. He’s still talking but the rest is lost when Niall turns his back to Harry and walks through the doorway to the front entryway.  The rest of his words are a blur, a murmur going in one ear and out the other as soon as he sees Niall's back to him.

 Is he leaving? Is Niall’s leaving?  Has Harry finally fucked up enough that Niall realizes it’s not worth it, that Harry isn’t worth the effort?  Does he finally know that taking Harry back was a mistake?  The sound of the front door closing on a slam echoes in his head until its all he hears.

Harry feels the plush rug on his bum when he collapses to the floor, didn’t even realize his legs weren’t holding his weight until now. But now he can tell, his whole body is shaking and tears are filling his eyes and his heart skips every other beat. His breath comes out in pants and he tries to take deep breaths to calm himself down.

This is what he’s been dreading since he started attempting to get Niall back, he always knew it was possible that Niall would see that he wasn’t worth the effort.  Maybe Harry can’t be the supportive boyfriend that Niall needs. Maybe he’s too needy.

Or maybe this is karma coming back to bite him in the arse. Maybe the truth is that he would always hold it against Harry that he’d been selfish and willing to throw away his soulmate for the chance to live his dream. And now Niall is living a different dream and Harry doesn’t have a place in it.  It had always been a sinking thought in the back of his mind that Niall would walk away because Harry walked away first.

But he was always bitter that Niall never came after him; granted now he understands why Niall didn’t, but he’s not going to make that same mistake. 

Legs steady with a new purpose, he pushes himself off the floor and he follows after where Niall went; not even recognizing the fact that Niall had gone to the front door instead of the door to the garage; he pulls open the heavy door only to see Niall there sitting on the front steps, elbows on his spread knees head hanging down.  He looks defeated.

He raises his head up and looks over his shoulder back at Harry.

“I’ll be back in a bit.  Just give me a minute.” Niall tells him before turning and facing away from Harry.  The air is hot on his front from the warming April weather outside and cold on his back where his AC is working to keep him cool. The contrast makes a shiver run from his head to his toes but it doesn’t do anything to calm his heart, still beating partially in panic.

“I thought you left.”  Harry’s words are out before he can stop them, but now he’s rewinding it all in his head.  Niall parked in the garage, he obviously didn’t leave.  He wouldn’t have walked home and left his car here if he was leaving the house or leaving Harry.

Harry wants to shake all these emotions away so he can think with a clear head instead of being clouded with all his anger, hurt, and insecurity.

“I said I was going to get some air.”  Niall won’t look at him, but his annoyance can still be heard in his voice.

“I didn’t, I-”

“Why did you think I was going to leave, Haz?”  Niall just sounds exasperated now.

“You just walked out the door…”

“And I told you I was getting some air.  Is there a reason why don’t you trust me?”  He still won’t look back at Harry.  He’s looking straight ahead, his eyes focused on something that Harry can’t see, toes digging in the dirt at his feet.

“I do. I do trust you,” Because he does, he trusts Niall with everything.

“No you don’t, because you haven’t talked to me.  Obviously something is bothering you, has been for quite some time, and you didn’t tell me about it on the phone.”  Harry wants to see is face.  He wants to know what’s going through his head.

“No, no, it’s not like that. I trust you…”  Harry just wants him to understand.  Why can’t he make himself clear?

“This is the second fight we’ve had, ya know?” That first fight had been awful, Harry had been sure that Niall was going to kick him out of his house; instead he’d said _‘it’s late, let’s go to bed and talk in the morning.’_   Niall had grabbed his hand and walked him to bed, he’d been on autopilot undressing down to his pants and then climbing into bed with Niall. Sleep had been slow to come to both of them, and when Niall had finally fallen asleep Harry had reached out and held him the rest of the night scared that he wouldn’t have the chance the next day. But in the morning, when they finally talked, it’d been much calmer- and Niall didn’t go anywhere or kick Harry out.

Harry takes a deep calming breath, walking down the steps he sits down next to him.  His hearts slowed down although his breathing is still a little fast, huffs of air racing to get out, but he feels a bit calmer looking into Niall’s eyes; the anger and annoyance seem to have dulled down a bit but he still looks frustrated.

“Niall I trust you.  I just...I get so fucking scared sometimes. And it’s stupid and I can’t explain it…”  he has his hands in his hair and he can’t stop himself from tangling the curls around his fingers, tugging a bit in frustration but the pinpricks of pain give him something to focus on other that anger and fear.

“Well try.”  Niall interrupts him blue eyes serious and he’s taken back to last June when Niall was barely an acquaintance and his gaze was colder than ice.

“I just- it’s not like. Sometimes- I just worry. Like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop- for you to realize that you – that I’m not- that you…”  Harry knows it’s not making any sense.   He shakes his head and tries to think of the words that can accurately.

“You’re waiting for me to leave you?”  Niall’s eyes are wide and his face has lost a lot of his color.  The eyes that were filled with annoyance and anger are now filled with hurt.

“That’s not what I said.” Harry moves his hands but he doesn’t know where to put them, Niall’s elbows are still on his knees.

“Yes it is. You think I’m going to leave you.”  His eyes are wide as he takes in Harry sitting next to him, but then he blinks and turns back away to look at the front gate,  hands twisting together another tell tale sign of anxiety.

“No. Yes, kind of? I’m terrified that you are going to realize that I’m not worth it and realize that you shouldn’t have gotten back together with me.” Harry mutters it out, soft and quiet almost hoping that Niall doesn’t actually hear him.  Now that he’s said it out loud, it just seems petty and wrong.

“Seriously Harry?!”  Niall just closes his eyes and hangs his head back down.

“I spent so long dreaming and plotting and planning on how to try to get you back. On what would work and what wouldn’t and I just remember begging you in that little hotel room at Gemma’s engagement party, you know the one?  I remember begging you to give it a chance, a real chance and then I remember promising never to talk to you again…”  Looking back Harry knows why he said it and he knows that he needed to say it at the time, but he’s just waiting for that conversation to apply to _now._

“Haz that’s fucking ridiculous.  Honestly? What the fuck?”  Niall voice is no longer sharp and cold instead it’s just laced with confusion.  Niall shrugs his shoulders and hits Harry with a dry look.

“I’m just…”

“Not talking to me.  Sure, we’re on the phone a lot but you aren’t fucking _talking_ to me.  You’re yelling at me about things that happened fucking months ago.  That’s some kind of grudge.”  Niall huffs out.  He can see he’s starting to sweat, the sun burning down on them as they sit on the front steps.

“I just don’t like to have serious conversations over the phone.” It seems silly now that he says it, but he wants to see Niall's face when they talk about something serious, read his eyes, his body language- you can’t do that on the phone.

“Well you’ll need to get over that.”  Niall tells him, his voice serious, hard even, “We both travel for a living and you know what- we are going to spend a lot of time missing each other.  But that,” Niall waves back to the house with a hand his voice colored with the red of anger, “That is not a welcome home I ever want to experience again.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”  Harry tries to calm him down, but now it seems that Harry’s anger ignited Niall’s

“No, you don’t need to be sorry about that; you need to be sorry about bottling all this shit up.  And you don’t get to say that I don’t miss you.  They only reason I went to that ‘oh so important’ meeting was so that I don’t have to leave your house for the next three days.  So that I am literally all yours.  My phone has been on airplane mode since right after I walked in the door.  No text, no calls, no meetings, just you- but apparently that’s not enough for you.”

“I...didn’t know that.”  Harry mutters.

“No because you pulled an attitude the second I got here.”  Niall stands up on the stairs, grabbing onto Harry’s hand and pulling him up.  “C’mon- let’s take this inside.  I’m not going to do this in front of the whole fucking neighborhood.”  It’s such a Niall thing to say, always so private.

He pulls Harry in, closing the front door behind him, the sound no longer as damning as it was before, and they head back to the living room where all this started. He directs Harry towards the sofa, and he falls on to it, sitting on the edge of the seat watching Niall pace in front of him.  He ends up reaching out, grabbing his shirt and pulling him in. Niall lets Harry stop his pacing and sits on the coffee table right in front of him knees spread on either side of Harry’s long legs.  He can help but keep his hands tangled in Niall’s grey pullover, trying to ground himself.  _He’s here, he’s still here._

Even though Harry knows this entire fight is stupid, pointless even, he feels better already.  Niall didn’t leave when faced with Harry’s anger.  He didn’t walk out the door, just called Harry an idiot and moved on.

“You _don’t_ get to tell me that I don’t miss you.”  Harry nods, but his anger has turned to a low boil burning under the surface. Because he’s realizing something very quickly- Niall’s not going anywhere.

“But you need to talk to me Haz; you need to tell me when you need more from me.  I’m not a fucking mind reader, how was I supposed to know all this was bothering you?”  His words are severe but his tone is by far the most gentle it’s been since he got home.

Harry scoots to the edge of the sofa, “I love you.” Harry tells him and Niall just gives him a confused look.

“I love you too, Haz. But we need to figure this out.  I need a bit more help from you.”  Niall’s exasperation is obvious on his face but Harry just uses his hands on Niall’s shirt to pull him into a harsh kiss. So much better than the short one at the door, because this time Harry takes the time to press his lips in, trace his tongue over that slightly dry lower lip and then give it a small bite. 

“I just told you my deepest fear and you called me ridiculous.”  Harry tells him and he knows that doesn’t explain anything

“Well yeah, I’m not going to hold you to a promise you made before we were even together?  I don’t even know what you are thinking sometimes.  I don’t get it.”  Niall sounds irritated and confused as he shakes his head.

“I know you don’t get it. I just need you to fill my love tank.”  Harry tells him, his first small smile breaking through at Niall’s expression. His eyebrows jump above the frames of his glasses, the terminology obviously throwing him off.

“Is that some kinky shit I don’t know about?”  He wants to laugh but he’s not quite there yet.  Either way its okay, Harry still has the book, he can have Niall read it _and_ take the quiz in the back.

“No, I just, I need to feel loved.”  Harry doesn’t know how to explain it but Niall still seems a bit lost, even though he’s trying so hard.

“Harry, I don’t know what you need right now.  You’re not making any sense and I don’t understand.”  Niall shakes his head but Harry knows what he needs now, and it’s not words and conversation.

He pulls hard on Niall’s shirt dragging the other boy closer so that he can grab at his hips and pull him onto the sofa, straddling his lap.  Harry shuffles back, so they’re no longer teetering on the edge of the sofa. Niall adjust his knees on either side settling in but giving him a calculated look, but Harry can’t help but think that his warmth and weight is a comfort.  Harry’s careful as slides Niall’s glasses off his face folding the frames and putting them on the coffee table behind them.

Then he lets his frustration control his hands and he’s a bit harsher than normal when it runs them through Niall’s hair pulling his hair back, but Niall goes with it, letting his head fall back exposing the long line of his neck to Harry’s lips.  He presses his mouth to Niall’s neck and the bite is sharper than he intends, but the hiss Niall lets out isn’t in pain, he knows that well enough, even if his body didn’t provide Harry the proof in a full body shudder.  He sucks lightly feeling the reactions in Niall’s skin, how the tremors spread down his spine. “I just want to feel like you missed me.” 

“I do, I did.”  He pulls Harry’s mouth from his neck and Harry can already see the bruise forming, normally he’s careful but right now he’s not, he wants to see it, proof on Niall’s skin that he belongs to Harry. “I miss you so much but I worry about calling you because you might be in the studio or working and I don’t want to bother you.” Harry never thought Niall’s thoughtfulness would actually be an issue- maybe it is time to rethink the aesthetics of his leather planner.

He takes his face between his hands, his eyes catching Niall’s, so full of emotion that he still doesn’t quite understand, so many different emotions rolled together in stormy blue.  He hates that pain and anger are part of the mix. “You are not a bother, you’re never a bother. I want your calls, I want your voice in my ear all the time, I want text messages waiting for me and voicemails saying ‘I love you’. I want to know that you’re thinking of me as much as I’m thinking of you.”  Harry kisses Niall again, because he doesn’t know what else to do.  He can’t explain it right now; he just can’t seem to find the words.

“Me too,” Niall mutters but Harry swallows the words in his kiss.

Now all he wants is his anger to burn out in kisses into Niall’s skin.  He wants to absorb the ice of Niall’s anger to cool his own.  He wants to show Niall how much he misses him by kissing every inch of his body and making the Irishman fall apart because no one else can do that like he can.

Harry guides Niall to the side, hands firm on his back and lays him down on the sofa as he presses in the cradle of his hips leaning up and over him, kissing him again stealing every word he’s trying to say.  Niall's body relaxes even as he's pushing him away.

“Harry, c’mon, you need to talk to me first,” He’s panting between kisses, and Harry can feel Niall’s body responding to his. He knows they need to talk but right now, this is what he needs.

“This isn’t solving anything, Harry. Haz, wait.”  And he does, he pulls back.  He looks at Niall underneath him, hips wiggling against Harry’s as he breathes deep.  He’s already flushed, pale Irish complexion always too easy to color- but Harry loves it.

“I’m still mad at you,” Harry tells him voice gravelly and he can’t help it, his fingers under Niall’s shirt are a bit rougher than normal and the two bruises on his neck are a testament to that too.  He’s not going to lie- he is still angry- but now he’s also so much more relaxed because now more than ever it’s obvious- Niall is here to stay.

“I can tell but…”  Harry kisses him again; pressing in hard, tongue sneaking into his mouth to devour, to reclaim.  It’s been too long since he’s kissed him, too long since Niall’s been under him like this, too long since he’s been able to take him apart.

“I need this.”  Harry presses each word to his lips, “I need you to let me make love to you. I need to feel like your mine again.”  It’s primal in a way that Harry’s not even going to try to excuse- something about having his hands back on Niall’s body is soothing things inside him and he just wants _more._

“Fuck,” Niall whispers before grabbing at his waist, shifting up his shirt, hands hot on Harry’s skin as he pulls his hips down flush, “You didn’t lose me, you're not losing me. I’m still yours in case you forgot. You’re tattooed on my skin.”  His voice fierce as his fingertips grab around his love handles.

He hasn’t forgotten it really; it’s just that he can’t see it all the time.  Not like his own 99p and shamrock on his wrist that he can look at and think of Niall. But Niall’s is there too, on his hip, stark ink on pale Irish skin and he can’t stop his hand from going down, slipping under the elastic of those comfy travel shorts he wears and rubbing right over his inked initials.  He knows that he can’t feel the tattoo, but in a way he can.  Sometimes he feels like he should get a matching one- a tattoo that he can look at knowing that Niall has one identical.     

“All mine,” He whispers darkly, leaning down and kissing Niall again, their anger slowly being replaced by passion, a different kind of fire.  It spreads through Harry and he uses his fingers to spread it through Niall with every touch on every inch of skin.

Harry’s lips never leave Niall’s as he kisses him; barely let him catch a breath until he’s panting when Harry pulls away. But Niall doesn’t let him go far, and Harry doesn’t say anything as his shirt rips at the collar when the Irishman pulls it up and over his head. It's just a shirt but this moment is irreplaceable.

He rocks back on his heels between Niall’s sprawled out legs and pulls Niall up by his own shirt just to pull it up and off of him, hand on his lower back keeping him lifted.  The second he’s shirtless he lowers him back down and his own body follows, lips on his collarbone sucking another bruise on his skin- another mark showing that he was there, that Niall’s _his,_ that he was missed _._

He doesn’t expect for Niall to be so alright with it.  Each bruise and bite to Niall’s skin causes his hips to press up against Harry’s, his hard erection looking for friction. Niall’s hands are clawing into his back harder than normal, but the slight pain grounds Harry in the here and now.  Niall’s home, where he belongs, with Harry.  Each touch of Niall’s hands, his lips on his neck, locks him in this moment.

All he wants now is to make sure Niall knows that he was missed, that he’s loved, and most of all that he is _his._

Harry’s cock is hard, still trapped in the confines of his jeans, but Niall’s hips are moving constantly pressing up into his, giving him the best kind of friction, and he can't stop his own hips from pressing down against Niall's, and he’s not sure if it’s the grind of his hips or his teeth on Niall’s nipple that makes the other boy groan.

He reaches down in the cushions of the sofa, he knows it’s here. Niall’s always prepared, he has lube stashed everywhere, in both their houses, and he only takes a few seconds to find it, pulling it from its hiding spot and twisting off the lid.

He pulls back far enough to get his hands on the loose elastic around his waist before pulling Niall’s pants and shorts down just far enough.  He’s forceful in a way he’s normally not as he traces back and lets his lube wet fingers circle his entrance and press in.  Niall’s hips arch, spine lifting off the sofa as he presses in two fingers right away.  Niall’s tight- of course he is- it’s been a month.  But the moans and whimpers coming from his mouth don’t indicate any sort of pain. The broken sound of his name escapes from Niall’s red kiss bitten lips and he can’t stop looking at him.

“All mine, still mine.” _Still yours_ Niall had said, and Harry looks down at the stark ink on his hips.

“Yeah,  still yours,” Niall echoes on broken pants, clawing at Harry’s arms moving up to his neck, the scratches don’t hurt, not now, they may sting later but he knows Niall's not trying to hurt him. Right now he just loves that his hands are on his skin.  He lets Niall pull him down, hands up on his neck to pull him into a kiss, dirty and quick.  “I thought you were gonna make love to me?”  Niall asks voice thick, accent heavy, his blue eyes are blown out, cheeks red with blush and lips dark from Harry’s kisses. 

All his anger is gone, all of it. Instead it’s turned into a desire to make Niall melt.

He twists his hand, adding a third finger and presses it into Niall, spreading all three fingers and opening him up, but Niall’s body is mostly pliant, relaxed. It's never been more obvious that he trust Harry, even in his anger to not hurt him. He presses up finding Niall's prostate from years of practice. Niall's moan echoes through the room before Harry sneaks back up and sips them from his lips, he almost swears he can taste each one.

Finally Niall’s words sink in through his blissed out brain, “Yeah, I am. I love you so fucking much…”  Harry drops his head to Niall’s collarbone, pressing little kisses to the bruises there, keeps his fingers moving, and Niall's still a bit tight but he doesn’t know how long either of them can hold out.

“Me too.  Love you pet, so much,” Harry lets him pull him up and looks him in the eye. “And I missed you, I’m so sorry you didn’t feel it, but I missed you so so much.”  Niall might be great at calm and collected most of the time but right now, he’s not.  Harry can see everything in that gaze, it’s so honest.  Harry finally moves into action, pulling his fingers from Niall’s arse.  He shuffles back, moving so that he can drag Niall’s shorts and pants all the way down and off his feet.  He can’t even explain how much he needs to be inside of Niall right now. His cock hurts with how hard it is trapped in his jeans.

He grabs at his own jeans, undoing the snap and the zipper.  Then Niall’s hands are there, fingers in the waistband of his jeans and pants pulling them down.  His cock drops away from his body, red, hard, and leaking,   He doesn’t even try to get them all the way off, but he lets Niall fight with them as he grabs the lube and spreads it over his cock.  Niall gets his jeans all the way off one leg but they’re caught on his ankle on the other, but he could care less. He has much more important things to worry about; like Niall flushed and ready underneath him. He really is the center of his world.

He presses Niall back down on the sofa and he goes down willing, eyes hot as he watches Harry spread the lube with a couple quick twists of his hand on his own cock.  Harry catches Niall’s legs at the ankles, moving his left leg up, calf to rest on the back of the sofa.   He presses a quick kiss to his knee the coarse hair on his legs tickling his lips before pressing the other leg off the sofa completely, spreading his legs wide.

“Good?” He _looks_ good, naked, flushed and aroused; spread-out waiting not so patiently for Harry.  Niall blushes at his question but nods. To this day his sense of modesty still confuses Harry, embarrassed blush on his cheeks while begging for Harry’s cock, but he loves it.

“Yeah, I'm good, you good?”  Niall shakes his head, his bangs damp with sweat clinging near his eyes.  Harry takes his hand and pushes it off to the side.  Can’t stop himself from running his thumb across his flushed cheekbone.

“Yeah, I’m great.” _Now_ but it doesn’t need to be said, doesn’t need to taint this moment another color- infuse it with unnecessary anger. That's done for now.

“Then c’mon. Make love to me, please?”  It’s mostly serious, partly joking, and enough to make Harry want to move instead of just look to his fill. He lets his left hand fall down just beside Niall's face, leans down and over to kiss him.  His hands come up and land in Harry’s hair, tightening a bit in his frustration.  The awkward angle is worth it however when he gets to taste Niall’s whimper as he finally lines up his cock and presses in, slow, so slow.

Niall’s tight around him, warm and wet and his teeth bite into his lip, hands tight in Harry’s sweaty curls, he takes the leg that Harry put on the back of the sofa and wraps it around his waist.  Harry can’t help the moan that tears free from his lips when he’s finally all the way in. 

It’s amazing in the way that this solves nothing, but makes him, _them,_ feel so much better. To be together bodies bound in such an intimate way soothes his soul in a way nothing else can.  He wasn’t lying when he said he _needed_ this.  He did- to have Niall welcome him into his body, his _heart- every time_ , no matter what, calms his fears.

When air becomes a necessity he pulls away, his other hand moving up to the other side of Niall’s face caging him in.  He doesn’t really look too worried about it.  Instead he tightens his hands in his hair again.  “Whatcha waiting on, pet?” 

“How can you piss me off so much and make me so fucking happy at the same time?”  Harry laughs out the question, pulling his hips back, and pressing back in starting that rhythm that he knows will shake Niall apart.

He can feel Niall’s heel pressing into his lower back and his hands snaking down to bite into his shoulders while his head rocks back lost in the pleasure.  Their hips move together, even when nothing else works right, this always does. Their hearts speaking through their bodies a language they don’t even pretend to comprehend.

Harry nuzzles into his neck, the smell of his sweat overwhelming the scent of recycled air from the plane.  Niall’s voice in his ear, broken moans and whimpers, pleas of _more, harder, please,_ but he just lays kisses on his neck, humming into his skin refusing to speed up the pace until his fingers are clawing into his back.

When he finally his the right angle Niall's hands fly from his shoulders, up over his head grabbing the armrest of the sofa, his hips jerking up.

“Oh god, oh god,” the litany rolls off his lips and Harry can't help the smirk that he tucks into his neck before snapping his teeth at his Adams apple earning a bitten off moan.  His stomach is tensing, teasing him with his impending orgasm as it coils tight in his belly.

Niall’s cock is wet and leaking between their stomachs; he can feel the damp on his own skin, “C’mon, touch me please, Harry, please,” his voice is raw; his words soaked in pleasure as he begs.  Harry starts to speed up his strokes faster now, harder, the room filled with the sound of their panting breaths and wet slap of skin on skin.

“No, just like this, I know you can, you’re almost there.”  And he can see it, in the damp of his eyelashes, the white of his knuckles, and the trembling of his muscles, his stomach is shaking, muscles in his biceps and triceps trembling with the strain of his grip on the sofa.  They’re pressed so tight together he couldn’t get his hand down there without pulling away.  And he wants to be this close; Niall’s holding him this close.

Harry knows his body better than his own, Niall is right there at the cusp.  Harry’ starts with his hand by his ribs, fingers dipping in each crevice until he hits his trim waist were the muscles are quivering under his touch.  He lets his head drop down kissing him, sloppy and sweet.  God- his whole body is shaking- he loves what he can do to him.

“Please-” Niall draws it out but it doesn’t matter he’s already coming, mouth gasping open in a mostly silent sob.  His body clamps down around Harry’s cock and he drops his head back to Niall’s collarbone panting into his neck as he finally lets his body thrust fast, hard, until he’s losing rhythm, the tension in his belly spreading out through his fingers and his toes until his vision turns white and his hips stutter to a halt coming inside Niall in jerks, his entire body twitching as he clings to Niall.

Niall’s leg falls off his hip; breathe panting and Harry can feel both their hearts racing.

“Holy shit,” Niall laughs, eyes closed “So, yeah, that’s more of the welcome home I was looking for.”  Niall’s hands are carding through his hair, sweaty from exertion, but it makes his scalp tingle and he presses a kiss to his lips

“Yeah?”  Harry asks, “Sorry to disappoint you.” And he is, even right now he feels a little bit guilty, like he's not being supportive the way he should.

“Don’t be, but Haz, we’ve got to talk, not right now because I'm a bit brain dead. But maybe after a quick kip?” he sounds happy, hopeful, and that little bit of guilt disappears.

“Yeah, don’t move.” He presses another kiss to his lips, longer this time as he pulls out.  When he does pull away he can’t stop himself from once again running his thumb across his cheekbone.  Niall turns into his hand pressing a kiss to his palm. 

“I won’t move a muscle; I really couldn’t if I wanted to.” Harry scrambles to get up, tripping on his jeans that are still hooked on his one ankle.  He steps on them, wiggling his foot out of them before walking to the kitchen; grabbing a dishcloth and wetting it down before making his way to Niall, wiping them both clean.

“Harry, we clean our dishes with that.”  Niall sounds almost offended, but Harry just presses a kiss onto his belly.   He can still taste him there.

“I’ll put it in the wash.” He shuffles them around lying behind Niall pulling his back into his chest, normally Niall prefers to be the big spoon, but on the sofa with Harry’s height it just works better this way.  He grabs the light blanket            uses it to cover them both and Niall takes his hand and tangles their fingers together before bringing them up to his lips to kiss the top of his hand.

“Love you,” Niall whispers soft, settling in, letting his eyes drift close. He traveled home through Dubai, almost a seven hour flight, then a two hour meeting, he must be exhausted.

He doesn’t remember falling asleep but it’s the most restful he’s slept in weeks.  By the time he wakes to Niall shifting in his arms, the sun has moved all the way across the afternoon sky, casting the room in shadows. He almost doesn’t want to say anything, doesn’t want to disturb the peace and quiet they found this afternoon, but he knows they have too. They’re adults; they can have a discussion about this and not have it end in another yelling match.

He can tell that Niall is waking up; he’s wiggling his toes, pressing his arse back into the cradle of Harry’s hips, hands twitching where their fingers are still tangled together.

“I’ll use my calendar.” Harry doesn’t mean to just blurt it out and it’s probably not the smoothest way to start, but he goes with it.

“Yeah?”  Niall asks, yawning, he lets go of Harry’s hand and shuffles a bit as he moves on the sofa, turning around to face him.  Harry keeps him wrapped up tight in his arms, not wanting him to fall off but also not wanting lose contact with all that warm skin either..

“Yeah,” he can deal with the loss of aesthetic if it means they’ll be able to communicate better, it’s a small sacrifice really.

“You know it even changes with the time zone I’m in so you never have to do the math.”  Niall whispers.

“Thank God, I suck at time zones.”  Harry can’t stop the kiss to his forehead, then to his nose, his lips.

“Me too,”  Niall’s hand falls on his waist, fingers tracing up and down on the curve chasing the gooseflesh his calluses raise on his skin.  “I will call more, and FaceTime, but let's start by agreeing on a two week maximum.”  Niall’s eyes are blue, steady, determined.

“Two weeks what?”  Harry asks.

“You said the first two weeks weren’t bad, so after two weeks I come to you or you come to me.  If I’m working and you’re not, you fly to me, if you’re working and I’m not I fly to you.  This wasn’t easy for me either pet.  So that’s the new rule. Obviously it might not always work so we need to plan it out.  We need to look out a month or two and maybe meet in the middle for a day or two something, but I hate that you even questioned that I missed you.”  Niall’s back feels hot under Harry’s hands as he works on massaging the tension away, but really he shagged most of it out of him already.

“It’s not like I didn’t know you missed me, I _knew_ it.  I just didn’t _feel_ it.”  Harry tries to explain, but there isn’t an easy way to explain his emotions, sometimes they just don’t make sense.

“You don’t need to explain anything, except maybe the love tank comment because I guess I need to know what it is before I can fill it, ya know?”  Niall has a smirk tilting up the corners of his lips.  “Because it sounds kinda kinky and I like it.”  Niall tilts his head up looking for a kiss, and Harry gives him one, then another, and a third for good measure.

“It’s not kinky at all; it’s from a book I read.”  He smiles at Niall’s laugh.

“Of course it is but it _sounds_ kinky…”  Niall raises a brow at him, “You sure it’s not kinky?”  He actually just sounds hopeful at this point.

“You’re such an idiot.”  Niall laughs again; he’s beautiful when he laughs.

“You love me.” 

“Damn right I do.”  Harry agrees. “And you love me too.”  

“It’s you and me…always.” Niall tells him, smile on his lips but his eyes are serious.   Harry’s hand falls to his hip, tracing the outline of Niall’s tattoo. 

“Always.”

**Author's Note:**

> I would love to hear from you. Please let me know what you think! Comments and Kudos are very much appreciated. 
> 
> If you would prefer stop over on tumblr and say [Hello!](https://catrinahartsnarry.tumblr.com/)


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